A Storm and Soup
by MusicCat
Summary: Young!Fruk. England angers his brothers and runs off to France. Fluff.


It was raining. Dark gray clouds filled the sky, with thunder grumbling overhead. France, returning from some errand, holding a flimsy piece of cloth over his head, ran down the path to his small cottage. He messed around with the doorknob, which got stuck from time to time, and was about to step inside when he felt a tug on his tunic. Thinking it was just stuck on some branch, he mindlessly pulled it away from whatever had it in its grasp. Over his mumbled complaint, cursing the rain, he heard an unmistakably familiar voice. "Hey, frog, don't ignore me."

France directed his attention to a bush on his right, and saw England sitting beneath the brush. A small smile lighted his face and he bent over to pick up the little nation. He stepped inside and closed the door, shutting out the rain. "And what were you doing sitting in a bush at my cottage?" France asked, an amused expression crossing his face. "My brothers got mad at me and I ran off." England said, his voice quiet. "Well, I guess you'll just have to stay here until they cool off." France chuckled. "That's why I came here, you idiot!"

After squeezing all the water from his hair and changing into dry clothes, France went into his small kitchen and started to cook dinner for him and his guest. He glanced over his shoulder as he was cutting vegetables, and saw England curled up in a blanket by the blazing fireplace. Was he asleep?

France hummed softly to himself as he finished preparing the soup and cut slices of bread. His attentions fell to his guest once more, and while the soup simmered, he strode over to sit beside him. England was indeed asleep, small hands fisted into the blankets he was wrapped in. France smiled. He stroked the nation's hair gently, and he began to wake. "Mmh...what are you doing..." he mumbled. France quickly came up with an excuse. "Waking you. Dinner is nearly ready."

England sat at the table, kicking his feet like any typical impatient child. "What did you make?" he asked, as France was pouring steaming soup into bowls. "Vegetable soup and bread." came the reply. The bowls and bread were placed onto the table, and France sat down beside England. "Careful," he said, blowing on his soup to cool it, "it's hot!" He was given an eyeroll by the younger nation. "I know, you git."

When their dinner was finished, France made up a guest bed of soft blankets and extra pillows he had around in the front room by the fireplace. He said goodnight, and blew out the candles around the cottage. As he climbed into his own bed, rain still poured and lighting flashed across the sky.

France awoke to a crash outside his bedroom. Reaching over to his nightstand, he lit a candle, and stepped out of bed, grabbing the dagger he kept stowed in the nightstand's drawer. He opened the door and peered around, and saw not a robber, but England, sitting in the hall, rubbing his head with a vase broken nearby. "England! What were you doing? I thought someone had broken in-"

"I-I got scared, alright?! I was trying to come get you but I bumped into that stupid table and the vase fell over. Sorry..." he looked down sheepishly. "It's alright, Angleterre. It can be replaced. Did the storm scare you?" France scooped up England into his arms again and walked to his bed. England was silent for a minute as France tucked him into one side. "Yes..." a little smile crossed the older's face. "Don't laugh, you frog!"

"I wasn't going to." he replied, and crawled beneath the covers. Thunder boomed, and he soon found England curling up beside him. "It's alright." and he closed his arms around the little one.

The sun shown brightly the next morning. Birds chirping awakened the two and they rubbed sleep from their eyes. England sat up. "Don't tell anyone about this or I'll kick your froggy behind. Now make me breakfast." he said, throwing the blankets aside and stretching. "As you wish." France laughed.

After breakfast, bread and fresh fruit, France brought England outside and tied his cloak around him. "Now, when you get back home, apologize to your brothers for what you did. Everything will be fine. And remember," he said, getting down to his knees so he was eye level with the smaller nation, "you can always come here." England nodded and gave his friend a hug. "Thanks..."

"You run along now."

To France's surprise, England took France's hands in his and leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to his lips. He pulled away quickly, and before anything could be said, England ran off, leaving an astonished France staring after him.


End file.
